So Wrong, But So Right
by SNN
Summary: Set during the end of Grade Point: Average; Derek's heart has started to do a strange flippy thing whenever Casey's around. Derek PoV. Dasey.
1. Nah, Dude Couldn't Be True

**A/N:** Okay, here's the deal with this: I'm going to post the first chapter of this and leave it up for a few days while I work out some more of the kinks with the original plot (believe me, it was majorly (hmm, apparently that isn't actually a word. odd) flawed in places) and then I'll post a chapter a day. I think I'll leave the sequel alone (plotwise) and just reread for grammatical errors and such.

I hope you guys enjoy it this time just as much as you did last go-around! This story _is_ my baby and it holds its own little (fairly large) place in my heart. xD

R&R-Enjoy-R&R-Enjoy-R&R  
Shannon

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**Nah, Dude. Couldn't Be True.**

"Can you please do this Casey? For me?" I asked, keeping my voice low. I wasn't about to pick up her rep. If she even has one.

"Fine," she said, surrendering. And why shouldn't she? I'm Derek Venturi. She handed me her stuff and went to work her magic. One of those lame guys by their lockers turned to say something. Like calling _me _a grade grubber. Ain't gonna happen, Bucko.

"Not a word!" I said, ripping off my lame hat and pointing at him. I dropped my hand and leaned against the wall, waiting for news from Casey. She came out and smiled triumphantly.

"94." I looked at the paper, then looked at her, then did it again. I dropped the books and hugged her in thanks.

"No one will ever even utter the first syllable of the word 'grubber' to you ever again." I said, unspeakably grateful for not failing again. First grade was bad enough. Hey, it's not my fault they put me beside the hottest girl there. I still can't believe I failed.

"Uh, you're welcome, Derek," she said and patted my left shoulder awkwardly. I pulled away quickly, remembering her status here. And hugging just isn't cool in my book. I rubbed my nose coolly and shrugged. I saw a passerby and snapped at the floor. As I expected, they dropped down immediately and picked up my books. As they handed me mind and Casey's things (as I hadn't given Casey her books back yet), I gave instructions.

I pointed to Casey, "She is Casey McDonald. She is officially _not_ a grade grubber. Got it?" They nodded quickly. "Spread the word." And with that, they handed me the stuff and began talking anxiously to people at their lockers nearby. I smirked and handed Casey her things. Casey gave me that famous half–smile of hers.

"Thanks," was all she said. I don't know what happened, but I think my heart did a flop when she did that. I shrugged it off as hormones and waved 'bye' to her. I then met up with Sam and we walked on home.

"So, Derek? Do you think Casey's cool?" Sam asked as we were walking. I looked at him for a minute, studying his face.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I've been thinking, and, well, I think I like her." Sam said a little reluctantly.

"Well, I mean, Casey isn't the coolest chick in school, but, yeah, sure." I said in my 'whatever' voice. Sam just nodded and we walked the rest of the way in silence. We went our separate ways after two 'laters' and a complicated handshake. I swear I didn't come up with it. Scouts' honor.

When I got home I ran upstairs and threw my bag on the floor haphazardly. I turned on some rock and picked up a magazine. I looked through my swimsuit edition of _Sports Illustrated_, and, growing increasingly bored, threw it down, too. I had the strangest temptation to do my math homework. Don't ask why. So, sighing, I got my notebook and worksheet. I swear, it looked like a foreign language to me. I sighed yet again and went across the hall to Casey's room. I knocked lightly, not liking having to talk to her, let alone ask for help.

She spoke a soft "Come in," and I opened the door. She had evidently been reading, for she had her index finger holding her place. She was lying on her bad, leaning against the headboard casually. I scratched my forehead, mentally preparing myself for the humiliation to come.

"Uh, Casey? I, uh, um, I kinda need some help with my homework?" She cocked an eyebrow and scoffed at me. I was rubbing off on her too well.

"You? Derek Venturi? The infamous King of Slackers, wants _my_ help? Since when do you even _do_ your homework?" she questioned.

I crossed my arms. "Casey, don't make this any harder than it already is." When she held her disbelieving gaze, I spoke again. "Look, can you just help me? Please?" I asked desperately, but coolly at the same time.

She looked me right in the eyes and said, "Come 'ere." The flop thing happened again. I sat down on the bed beside her as she made room for me.

"OK, so, math. My favorite." She said happily. I gave her a look and she put on a face.

"Hey, do you want help or not? I could just as easily watch you fail," she said defensively. I raised my hands in surrender and opened my notebook. Peh. Homework is stupid.

"What don't you get?" She asked.

"Um, all of it." I said, blushing. I _never_ blush. That was yet another sign. She shifted into a more comfortable position, sensing that this might take a while.

"OK, Pythagorean Theorem. A squared plus B squared equals C squared. So, on number one, you have to do that and find the surface area, too. All right, 15 squared is 225. 20 squared is 400. Add those together and you get 625. Now if you find the square route of that, you get 25. So, that's 15 squared plus 20 squared equals 25 squared. That's your first answer.

"Now, since this is a triangular prism, well, a right triangular prism, you do A equals .5 times base times height. Then, multiply that by two. Then find the area for the three rectangles, then add everything together. See?" she explained. All the while she had been writing everything down.

I nodded my head, "Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Case." I said.

"Well, you're welcome, Derek." I gathered my things and walked towards the door. Then I stopped.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You're pretty cool, Case. Just don't tell anyone I said that." I said with a smirk and walked out just before the pillow hit me.

Well, maybe she's not that bad after all, I thought to myself that night before I went to bed. But I gotta figure out what's going on with that flop thing...


	2. I'm Cool Like That

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter! I hope you guys like it and thanks for the great reviews! :)

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**I'm Cool Like That**

The next day I woke up, eyes glued shut. I grabbed my clothes and headed for the shower. Of course, I had hit the snooze button one too many times, so the bathroom was occupied. You see, this is one of the many, many reasons Dad shouldn't have married Nora. I won't list them all now. It would take too much effort, and at this particular moment, I am lacking in that department.

Grr, I need a shower and coffee.

"Hurry up!" I shouted loudly, banging on the door. I heard the shower stop and I hit the door once more. After a few more excruciating minutes, my patience was shot.

"Oh, come _on_! No one needs this much time!" I screamed. I am _not _a morning person. Unlike...

"Hi, Derek! Good morning!" Casey said cheerily. I rolled my eyes and shoved my way into the bathroom. I turned the hot on full blast and added a smidgen of cold water. Steam is _so_ awesome.

As I was washing my hair, Casey's name passed through my mind. Now _that_ was weird. I _never_ think about Casey. Okay, well, I couldn't exactly say _never_.

Fine, I'll tell you. So, you wanna know why I hit the snooze button so many times this morning? Well, that would be because of that _lovely_ little dream I had about Miss Casey. You see, she was wearing one of those hot, sexy, evil outfits you might see in Charlie's Angels. Mmmhmm, she was lookin' _fine. _And she had this whip... Oh, man. Then she straddled me. And, well, my alarm clock went off. I hit snooze, trying to get the dream back. But the moment faded away. And, well, now I'm here. In the shower and, yes, a hot one. Cold doesn't wake me up for some strange, alien reason unknown to man. But it must run in the male side of the family. Dad and Edwin say the same thing applies to them.

I shut off the water and dried off. Wrapping one towel around my waist, I grabbed another and cleared the mirror off. I then took the towel and scrubbed my hair dry. Grabbing the gel, I reached for a brush. Because, alas, we were out of conditioner. Only for the fiftieth time, of course. So my hair was in tangles. I brushed out all of those root-deep tangles and put some gel in it. I went for my usual look, but then decided on spikes on top. It looked good, if I do say so myself. I put my clothes on and went back into my room. Turning on my CD player, I went back to sleep.

Only when I felt pressure on my bed beside me did I awake.

"Mmmhmm?" I said dreamily. I felt hands take my headphones off. I felt hot breath on my neck. They were close, whomever it was.

"Der-rek!" I heard them say in a singsong voice.

"Mmmhmm?" I asked in that half-dazed state. My eyes were still shut.

"Wake up!" Casey shouted in my ear and my eyes shot open. She tried to run, but I grabbed her hand and began tickling her mercilessly.

"Stop! Derek, stop!" She pleaded.

I pressed, "Not until you say what I want you to say!"

"What? Any... anything!" she said, trying to breathe through her laughter.

"Say 'Derek is the master'!" I shouted, grinning with triumph.

"Never!" She shouted adamantly.

"Then the torture goes on!" I said maliciously.

"Fine! Fine, I'll say it!" she screamed. I was still tickling her.

"Say it!" I prodded her.

"Derek is the master!" she said at last, giving into fate. I _am_ Derek Venturi. I stopped tickling her and rested my hands. Only then did I realize our position. I was straddling her, holding her hips; she had her hands on my thighs. She caught her breath a moment later, seeing our positions, too.

"Breakfast! Casey, Derek! Get down here! It's going to get cold!" Nora shouted, giving Casey and myself a scare.

I leaned forward. "C'mon, Case. Let's go," I breathed, about a millimeter away from her face. I leaped up off her and walked coolly towards the kitchen. I was well into my breakfast when Casey finally came in.

"What took you so long?" I asked. She just shook her head and began to eat her breakfast. She looked up at me once while she was putting her fork in her mouth. I stopped breathing. It was like time was frozen as our eyes met. Then Marti came in. Lucky for her, school starts at nine.

"Smerek!" Ah, the infamous nicknames.

"Smarti!" I shouted. She ran up to me and gave me a hug. I kissed her forehead and told her to eat her breakfast. When Casey and I finished eating, we went outside to wait for the bus. I sighed. I couldn't take Drivers' Ed. My grades weren't high enough. The bus pulled up and we trudged in. I was about to sit with Sam when he shook his head.

"Hey, Casey? Sit with me?" he asked her, and she nodded and sat beside him. I rolled my eyes and made one of the middle school kids move. I leaned my head against the window and listened to Crossfade on my CD player.

When we arrived at school, I was the last out of the bus. I noticed Sam and Casey were holding hands. For a brief moment I felt something pass through me. I couldn't quite place it. I shuddered.

_No, I couldn't possibly like Casey. After all, she is my stepsister. __**Ding, ding, ding! Give the man a prize! **__What in the world? __**I would be called your subconscious. You know that little voice inside your head that's always right? **__Ha ha. You're so funny. __**Don't flatter yourself.**__ Okay, you can stop now. What exactly did you want to tell me? __**That you're in love with Casey. And yourself. Take your pick.**__ Oh, shut up. __**Why don't you? **__Grr. I'm not so sure that I like you too much. Do they have substitutes for subconsciouses? __**Yeah, they're called vegetables.**__ Once again, so funny. Oops, I forgot to laugh. Not. __**Ah, the oldest, LAMEST comeback in the book. I'd**_ _**expected better from you. Cool one.**__ Grow up. __**You first. You have to grow up for me to grow up, genius. **__Thanks. I'll be here all week. __**Don't quit your day job. OH, wait. You don't have one. **__Neither do you. Speak for yourself. __**I do. Last time I checked, I **_**was **_**you. **__Oh, do grow up. Won't you? __**Will you quit asking me that? It's going to be the same answer as before. **__Oh, good grief. I have to get to class. Could you at least leave me alone for that one? I actually like this class. __**Fine, whatever. You're wasting my time anyway...**_

Okay, that class is officially on my 'boring subject' list. Oh, and that substitute! Argh - I need a stress ball... Just then I saw Sam and Casey making out by Casey's locker. I would've puked had I not looked away. Ew.

"Get a room!" I shouted to them and headed to my locker. I looked for my math homework and couldn't find it. I sighed.

"Then one time I do my homework..." I muttered to myself.

"Hey, Derek!" I shut my locker and leaned against it. Sam came up to talk to me.

"Hey, Sam." I said with a lack of enthusiasm. "S'up?"

"I've got something to tell ya," he said.

"Thanks, Sir Points Out the Obvious A Lot." I said sarcastically.

"Ha, ha. But, seriously, guess what?" Sam said almost too happily. He must've gotten a girlfriend. I wonder who that would be.

"What?" I said, rolling my eyes.

"I'm going out with Casey."

"No! I never would've guessed by the way you two were eating each other's faces earlier," I said, visibly gagging. Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes.

"Whatever, dude. I have to get to class before that teacher finally decides to kill me. Later, man," he said, walking off.

"Later," I muttered, being the one of the few left in the hallway. I dragged the rest of the way to my math class. Ugh, I still can't believe I lost it.

"Mr. Venturi, this is the last straw. You never do your homework. I'm sending you to the principle's office," Mr. Gilbert said sternly.

"Mr. Gilbert, I'm telling you I did it. I just left it at home... on my desk..." I said, finally realizing exactly where I left it. Suddenly a light clicked on in my head.

"Wait right here. You can send me to the office in a minute," I said and ran out of the classroom. I found Casey and grabbed her wrist.

"C'mon, Case. I need your help with something," I said and took her into the room. "Mr. Gilbert, this is Casey. She's my stepsister. She'll tell you I did my homework," I said, with a smirk on my face.

Casey looked at me, realizing what I was talking about. "Oh! Yeah, he did it. I even helped him with it," she said, looking right into that teacher's eyes.

Mr. Gilbert sighed. "Fine. But if you don't bring it tomorrow it's another zero to add to your collection."

"Thank you!" I said and walked out with Casey. "Thanks, Casey. I really needed that."

"You're welcome, Derek," she said for what seemed like the hundredth time this week. I was suddenly picking up manners. I shuddered inwardly.

She walked away and met up with Sam to have yet another make out session. I really hope they won't do that the whole time Sam's over at the house today. That's just wrong. It doesn't look right. Sam's too dumb for her. Yeah, that was a little mean, but, hey, the truth hurts. I walked home alone and went into the living room. I pressed 'guide' and saw nothing worth my time was on and turned the TV off. I decided that I had had enough of this day and decided to take a nap. That didn't go so well.


	3. Do

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! :)_

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**Do**

"Derek!" My eyes shot open. You have got to be kidding me! I finally had that dream back... Grr...

"Derek! Get your lazy butt up here! Now!" my dad boomed at me from above. I sighed sleepily and dragged myself up the stairs. My dad was standing in front of my room, arms crossed intimidatingly.

He cleared his throat, "Derek, have you looked at your room lately?"

I smirked. "Well, yeah. I kind of sleep in there, Dad," I said.

He rolled his eyes impatiently, "Derek, I'm tired of your nonsense. Now, you listen to me, and you listen well. Your room is to stay clean at all times, your grades are going to pick up, and your going to stop telling Marti what's 'funny'," – he made air quotes – "and you're going to make it through high school with all of your organs. Are we clear?" He said, looking me right in the eyes. I'm _so_ scared.

"Sure, Dad. Whatever." I said nonchalantly. Dad turned to leave with one final disapproving look towards my room. Only, he stopped. Quite suddenly, in fact. If he had more hair he would've given me whiplash. He bent down and picked up something rather small, ...and that's when I realized what it was. Oh, _shit._

He closely examined the object, then dropped his hands. "You know what? I don't even want to know what you're even doing with this. Because I don't care. It's your life, you destroy it if you want. I love you, kid. But, you're just not making the smartest choices," he said tiredly. I wasn't _about_ to be accused of something that I didn't do. Yet.

"Dad! It's not even like that! I'm _not_ having sex! Do you even know me?" I said, looking him right in the eyes.

"Okay, _Derek_. Then what in the world are you doing with a condom?" he questioned, putting his hands on his hips. Okay, now I know I'm supposed to look serious, giving extreme nods in extreme agreement and such, but, I'm sorry, he just looked so... feminine doing that. Dad's not too manly sometimes. I could hardly keep a straight face.

"It's called Sex Ed, _Dad_! They give us those, they think we don't listen. Which I do, but no one else does." I added that part so as to avoid more badgering. Even though that class is pretty interesting, if you catch my meaning. Hehe...

"Since when do you listen in class?" Alas, my slacker's reputation hath betrayed me.

I rolled my eyes, "Dad, have you even been in there? I'm a hormonal teenage boy. Horny, if you will. But that doesn't mean that I do anything about it."

"Fine. Just – just go clean your room," he said and walked back down the stairs. He took the condom with him. Whatever, dude. It's not like there's anyone of interest at my school right now. Not that I don't mind the fawning over me, but it gets a little old. I need someone with a backbone, you know what I mean?

For example, the girl with the books yesterday. With a snap of my fingers, she did what I wanted her to.

I want someone who will put up a fight. I want a challenge. Challenge brings fights, fights bring fire, and fire means passion, hence my love for a challenge. Basically my three favorite things in a... relationship.

_**Relationship. That's a funny word. I didn't know that you could call what you do a relationship. **__You again? Joy. My dreams come true! __**Yes, thank you. I'm flattered, really. **__What do you want this time? __**Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd drop by and torture you till you're crazy. Then I'll leave. It's all a vicious cycle. **__So I've noticed. But, really, why? __**Well, it didn't seem to sink in the last time so... I'll tell you once more. Only, I'll try and put it in words you can understand, okay? **__Whatever dude, just get on with it. __**Okay, you know that flippy thing that's been happening lately? **__Um... yes? __**Well, that's a little thing that we humans like to call 'love.' **__Uh-uh, buddy. No way. Sure, Casey's hot. But that doesn't mean anything. I mean, she's my stepsister. __**Yes, but if you two were ever to happen, which you will, by the way, it couldn't be considered wrong. She's your STEPsister. 'Step' being the key word here. **__But what about what other people will say? '__**But what about what other people will say'. Boo-hoo, you big baby. Since when do you care what other people think? Your Derek Venturi! Act like it, for crying out loud!**_ _Fine! You know what? I will! I'll just march over there and tell her! __**I'll believe it when I see it.**_

I walked (yes, walked; marching seemed a bit extreme) over to Casey's room and knocked.

"Come in," I heard her call loudly. She must've been listening to music or something. I opened her door and walked a few paces in. Then I saw my obstacle: Casey's best friend, Emily. They were on her bed looking at some magazine. I think that it was _Cosmo Girl_. Ugh, that magazine is so lame that there are no words to express its total stupidity. Don't ask me how I know.

I just kinda stood there for a minute looking around the room. She'd shined it up a lot. When I say 'a lot,' I mean _a lot. _

If I were a girl, I would totally kill for this room. Whoa, did I just say 'if I was a girl'? And 'totally'? Ick, I must be hanging around Casey too much.

"Well, what do you want?" Casey asked. Emily seemed to be avoiding eye contact. You see, that's what I can't stand about her: no backbone. No backbone means no challenge.

I struggled for words. It's hard to speak in total honesty of your true feelings for someone in front of their friends. Yes, even I, Derek Venturi, get nervous. That's the thing about the challenge. Casey is the kind of girl who would make me crawl before she even looked at me. Fear of rejection and embarrassment got to me. Ugh – that is _so_ wrong.

"Um, uh, I just – I uh, wanted to, um, -- yeah, I forgot. So, uh, bye," I said awkwardly and left.

Okay, that was embarrassing -- too embarrassing for words. Nobody saw that, right? Good. I shudder to think what it would do to my rep if word got around that I was capable of embarrassment. It's just like, say, a notorious, feared-by-them-all pirate let a prisoner escape -- on purpose. Then, they (the people), think he's gone soft. Next thing you know, his crew stops listening to him, the village people are no longer scared of him... So, you know, they hang him. That's basically what would happen to me. Not good.

I stumbled downstairs, still recovering from that moment. Embarrassment isn't my thing ... I'm just... not used to it. I clung to the banister a little too tightly, apparently. Because next thing I knew, my hand wouldn't slide down the banister, so, my face did. Yeah, let's just say I got a little more familiar than required with the foot of the stairs. Ouch, dude.

I got up. Grunting in pain, I walked towards the living room. I had left my bag on the floor beside the couch. Well, with my ever so _fabulous_ luck of today, Dad was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. Now I'm gonna get the third degree. I'm supposed to be upstairs, cleaning my room. I tried to be as casual as I could, swiftly reaching for my bag when he spoke, not looking up from the paper.

"Have you cleaned your room, Derek?" His eyes scanned the page.

I sighed, resigned to defeat.

"No, Dad. I just came downstairs to get my bag," I said, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"And why was it here in the first place?" He was trying my patience. I don't like this game.

"Because the second I got home, I came in here and took a nap. Then I was _oh so nicely_ awakened to clean my room. In all of this haste, I forgot to get it. Do you want to search it, or have you all ready done that?" I bit, patience withering down at an increasing rate.

"Derek, don't take a tone with me. It's not my fault you were in your room up until God knows when." He finally looked at me.

"Oh, so _now_ you choose to act like my dad? You never used to care about this stuff! I could be living under a mountain of underwear and you wouldn't even notice! So, tell me, _Dad_, what's with the change of heart?" I said, red in the face. He started to respond, but I cut him off. "No, you know what, _George_? It is your fault. I needed someone to set some boundaries for me, but I guess that won't happen, will it? Because I have no dad. I have a brother and a sister. I might as well be an orphan!" I was shouting by the time I finished.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"Derek, you're grounded for the next three weekends. I am your father. You will call me 'Dad' and you will treat me with the respect that I deserve. You know the reason I can't be here all of the time. It's called a _job_, son. You should really consider getting one," he said tiredly, but with his 'stern authority' voice.

I breathed a surrendering sigh and went upstairs. I think I saw the inside of my head in extreme detail I rolled my eyes so much. I began to, lazily, I might add, pick up some random things spread haphazardly throughout my room. This might take a while. No, scratch that. This will take all day. What's left of it, anyways.

Hmm, what's this doing here? I made that sandwich two months ago...

Oh, I've been looking for that since Christmas! What is it, October now?

What's my CD player doing in the trash can? Wait – that's not my CD player! I don't even know _what_ that is! AH!

Okay, this is officially _embarrassing. _Forget the Casey thing. This is _humiliating _and everything affiliated with the word.

I ended up cleaning until 10 'o clock. Big fun. But, when I was _finally_ done, there wasn't even the tiniest little speck of dust. I had Pledged, dusted, vacuumed, and scrubbed. My room was cleaner than Casey's.

The color of my floor is pretty tight.

When I had put all of the cleaning tools away, I took off my shirt and hit the sack. Just as I closed my eyes, the phone rang. Uh-oh, is Grandma okay? I jumped up and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I said quickly.

"Yeah, hey Der. Uh, he's doing it again. Can I sleep over?" Sam asked quietly with haste.

"Yeah, sure, Sam. Come on over, but be quiet. I don't want to wake the folks up. I'm already in trouble as it is."

"Okay. Thanks, man."

"Hey, you don't have to say thanks."

"I know, but I feel like I have to."

"All right, that's fine. Just don't get all mushy on me," I said and hung up.

About ten minutes later Sam showed up with a sleeping bag. I let him in and he spread it across the floor in my room.

"Wanna talk about it?" I asked quietly.

"Uh-uh, dude. Maybe tomorrow. I don't know, but probably not," Sam said and just like that he was asleep.


	4. NotSoPerfect Utopia

**A/N:** Thanks for the great reviews, guys! :) I hope you like this chapter.

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**Not-So-Perfect Utopia**

The next day Sam and I had to wake up at five 'o clock, one hour earlier than I'm used to. I let him have the shower first -- he'd had a rough night. Only I know his secret; only I know I can't tell anyone. Not even Casey, his girlfriend.

No one notices the bruises so cleverly disguised as hockey scars. The neighbors don't hear the quiet sobs of a broken child. They didn't hear the screams of an abused mother. No on hears anything. They go about with their soccer-mom lives and businessman jobs, while a father comes home in a drunken rage every night, cursing and striking over every little wrong detail, drawing blood out of his son's bottom lip... Tearing his family apart from the inside out.

I heard the shower cut off, and Sam and I switched out; myself in the bathroom, him in my room to get ready for school. About fifteen or so minutes later, we were both ready and we went down to the kitchen ever so quietly. You see, whenever Sam's dad gets drunk, Sam stays here. My dad has never noticed, and Nora hasn't... yet. We don't want them to. _Sam_ doesn't want them to. We ate breakfast and quietly went out the front door.

I almost asked him if he wanted to wait for Casey, as she _is_ his girlfriend and all (I wouldn't have thought about it on a normal basis), but decided I had better not. I decided to ask him again if he wanted to talk about it when he started to talk.

"Derek," he said quietly, "I think Mom's hurt real bad this time. She was lying on the floor when I left."

Sam's mom doesn't let him help her. Every time his dad comes home, he tries to defend her, but his mom sends him to his room. He begs her to leave, but she refuses. She says she thinks that he'll stop one day and realize that they're there for him. Sam doesn't think so; I don't, either. Sam has to sneak very quietly out the front door; he has no windows in his room. Not real windows, anyway. His dad boarded them up one time and threatened to kill Sam if he ever removed them.

"Well," I said after a few beats, "could you see if she was breathing?"

"No, but there was a lot of blood near her head. Can we stop by there to check on her?" he asked timidly.

"Sam, I – I don't think that would be a good idea. Maybe we should just call an ambulance?" I said. I figured if we went by there, his dad would be there. Not a good plan.

"No! Mom said that if I leave and see her like that, to not call _anyone._ She said that they might call the cops on him. I love my mom, but I hate him," Sam said with a fire in his eyes.

"Okay," I said hesitantly, "we'll go by the house on our way to school. I guess we'll take the long way." We turned around and headed towards his house. I wouldn't exactly call his house a home.

"Thanks, man." I stopped and gave him a look. I had already told him not to say 'thanks'. "Right," he said, and we walked on.

When we arrived at his house, there were no cars in sight except for his mom's. Good - this means his dad isn't home. Quietly, we walked to where Sam's mom had been. She was still there; the blood had stopped pouring from her head, but I couldn't see if she was breathing. Sam dropped his bag and ran to her.

"Mom?" he said loudly, kneeling in front of her body. He felt her neck, checking for a pulse; there was none. I could tell by the look on his face. His mom's complection was deathly pale and her eyes were wide with fear. I remembered the last time I had seen her; beautiful, flourishing red hair, big, pouty lips, and hazel eyes... She was the spitting image of gorgeous.

"Call 911," he said urgently.

"Sam... look at her..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"It doesn't matter! Call 911!" he shouted at me. I immediately ran to the phone and did as instructed. When the lady answered, I told her our situation and address. She said the paramedics would be there soon.

"What did they say?" he asked.

"Only that they'd be here soon."

"Oh," was all he said as he nodded. His brow was furrowed and I saw him wipe away a pesky tear. Sam doesn't deserve this. Not one bit.

About ten minutes later the ambulance arrived and they took Sam's mom away from him. They wouldn't let him ride along; she had a sheet over her head. Sam and I just stood on the sidewalk, watching silently as the car took his mom away... forever.

Almost a week later at school, (for Sam hadn't wanted to skip out . . . "I'm behind in my schoolwork as it is," he'd said), I saw Casey walking the halls alone. This is really going to lay the guilt on me. I like my Mom-less best friend's girlfriend. I guess I'll go find out if she knows anything. I'm going to use any excuse to talk to her.

"Hey, Case," I said, falling into step with her. She looked at me for a minute, shocked. She must've been in her own world.

"Hey," she said slowly. I don't normally acknowledge her existence at school. There are some occasions, yes, but not normally.

"So," I stalled, searching for words, "what's up?"

"Nothing – except, well... Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen Sam today?" I felt my palms grow sweaty. I tried to play it cool. _Tried_ being the key word here.

"I... uh... I,... I, um... no?" I finished. My voice actually squeaked. You'd think I'd be better at this by now. Sam's been covering for him for his mom for years. I've been covering for Sam for years.

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, really? Are you sure about that?"

"Maybe?" I sighed, giving in. "Look, Casey. If you need to know something about Sam, talk to him, okay? If he doesn't tell you then he doesn't want you to know."

"Is he cheating on me?" My eyes widened. Did she really think that Sam was like that?

"No! God, no! He's not like that, Casey. Just go find him and talk to him," I said and walked away quickly.

I walked home alone that day; I couldn't find Sam, either. Maybe she's found him and they're walking home on a different route. They certainly aren't behind _me_.

Soon, I was home. I went up the stairs and backed up until the backs of my knees were against the edge of my bed and flopped down backwards. That made my back feel so much better. I must've slept the wrong way last night. I closed my eyes and sighed with pleasure. Wow, that feels really, _really_ good. Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on my door. I groaned, being knocked so rudely out of my utopia.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "it's open."

I heard soft footsteps and pressure on my bed. My mind instantly flashed back to a few days ago when Casey had woken me up. The mystery person suddenly started bouncing the bed.

"Smerek!" Marti shouted.

"Hey, Smarti!" I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. She hopped in my lap, making me sit up. "What is it?"

"Um, I don't know. I thought I saw Casey coming home crying and I thought you might know what was wrong," Marti said in her I-feel-extra-important-today voice. Huh, what could've happened?

"Well, I don't know either, Smarti. How about I go talk to her?"

"Okay!" she said -- well, more like shouted -- in my ear. She tends to talk a little louder than necessary. It made me flinch. My ears were ringing. I got up not too long afterwards, heading towards Casey's room. I knocked almost too quietly; if she was crying, I would be able to catch her and ask what's wrong – the perfect excuse.

I hastily opened the door, "Casey?"

She wiped her nose and sniffled, "Haven't you ever heard of knocking, Derek?"

"I did," I said slowly. "Casey? What's wrong?"

She let out a bitter laugh, "What's it to you?"

"You're crying. I want to know what's wrong," I said calmly. I don't want to make her cry anymore. I don't like to see girls cry – at all.

"You wouldn't understand," was all she said. I smirked, plopping on her bed and allowing it to bounce before I spoke again.

"Try me."


	5. Ever the Same

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews, you guys! I really appreciate them! Seriously, I do a little happy dance. ;P

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**Ever The Same**

"Try me," I said. Casey scoffed.

"I'd rather not, thank you," she said smugly. She crossed her arms and walked over to the chair in the corner of her room. Sitting down, she put her head in her hands. I sat up straight.

"C'mon, Case. Tell me what's wrong. Please? I don't like to see girls cry. Especially girls as pretty as you." She looked up at me; I avoided her piercing gaze.

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked slowly.

"Don't change the subject. Now, what's wrong?" I said, finally making eye contact. She sighed and stood up hastily. She began to pace and spoke in mumbled slurs that should have been words. I looked her up and down, following her with my eyes.

Wow, she looks hot.

I know, I know. I shouldn't be thinking about that right now. But... I just can't help it. It's what I do; I'm a guy – a teenage one at that – which means hormones, which means: Casey equals hott.

Okay, back on track. What's going on again? Oh, yeah. Casey's upset – not good.

Casey stopped in front of me for a minute, then shook her head and began to pace once more.

I sighed heavily; this might take awhile. Fortunately for me, while Casey paced, I got to check out that figure. Mmm-mmm... man, she looks _fine_.

_**Snap out of it, man! Concentrate here! **__Right, right... Right. I know, I should be paying attention, but she just doesn't know what she's doing to me. __**Whine, whine, whine. Would you like some cheese with that whine? You're supposed to pay attention right now. Casey needs you to be there for her. You **_need _**to be there.**_

"Case, I'm right here. Talk to me," I walked in front of her, blocking her manic pacing. She dodged left; I blocked. She went right; I was there. She tried to shove me out of her way, saying an impatient 'move!' but I stood tall. I took her by the arms and shook her. But not in a bad way, or anything. Just in a general snap-out-of-it way.

"Casey! _What's_ _wrong_?" I shouted, slightly frightened at her alien behavior. She punched me in the chest as hard as she could; I held my ground. She hit, and she hit, and she hit. She hit until she until she didn't have the strength to do it anymore. She broke down in tears and cried into my shoulder. I decided to just let her cry it out when she broke away from me for a moment, only to say one thing and one thing only.

"He hit me." Then she began to sob uncontrollably. I just stood there; one arm around her back, the other holding her head protectively. He hit her. He _hit_ her. Why would he do that? I mean, sure, he's been through a rough time and all, but... abuse? Sam's not like that... is he? Yeah, he can get angry sometimes... and he did take wrestling – he does a good ol' fight with me every now and then... but he would _never_ hurt Casey. Unless... you know, she was being nit-picky and... having one of those take-control-of-everything moments.

As her sobbing subsided, I figured I should try and get the story - only if she wants to.

"Casey? Casey, sweetie," I said as I pulled her off of me a bit and cupped her cheeks in my hands to make her face me. "Can you tell me why he hit you?" She sniffled and closed her eyes. Shuddering, she took in a breath.

"Case, you're cold. Here, let me get you a blanket," I spoke softly - as you would to a small child who has just witnessed something terrible. I quietly walked across the room and got her royal blue velvet blanket. Wrapping it around her snugly, I walked her over to her bed. I sat her down and kneeled in front of her. I looked at her for awhile, my hands on her knees. She was looking at the walls, pictures, anything but me. I shook her knee a little to get her attention.

"Casey, where did he hit you?" I asked as quietly as I could. She shrugged and the blanket fell a little. I got up from my position and fixed her blanket. I sat beside her and wrapped my arms around her. "It's okay. He won't hurt you anymore – I won't let him. But I need you to tell me what happened, okay? I need to know," I said and gave her a kiss on her head. She turned her head to look at me. I'll never, in all my days, forget that look in her eyes. Betrayal, hurt, pain... It made my heart _physically_ hurt to see her like that. She opened her mouth ever so slightly...

"I'll kill him. I'll _kill_ him! He'll never touch you again," I said as I stormed out of the house, grabbing my jacket. Where is he? _Where is he?!_

I ran over to his house and barged in. I didn't care about any human decency after what Casey just told me! I looked around quickly, scanning for signs of life. I didn't see anyone there so I went up the stairs. I rampaged through the house, tearing through every room; looking for any trace of Sam's previous existence there. I found nothing. I went to his new hangout – the parking lot at the gas station down the street.

I found him there. He was leaning back against his jacked up blue Mercedes (seriously, it's a living dent-hole). Sam was drinking something out of a brown paper bag. I can't believe he'd even do that – drinking - especially after what happened with his dad and mom and all. If this is why he did what he did to Casey... He's gonna get it, all right. I'll make sure of that.

I marched over to him and shoved the bottle out of his hands, leaving it to smash into pieces on the cement. He stared down at it for a moment, and then he looked at me with fire in his eyes. He scowled at me, clenching his teeth. I looked back at him with venom. I wanted to rip him into a million pieces, and then put them together - just to take them apart again. I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it aside, he did the same – only he was clumsier than I.

I clenched my fists together – they were at my sides. With my feet spread apart, and my balance perfectly in tune, I hit him with all of my power – uppercut. Then I sucker punched him with more strength than I've ever used in my entire existence. By then he was hunched over in pain, but he managed to stand up straight. He swung at me and missed – he was too drunk to aim well. I threw a chain of punches at him that ended up with him on the pavement and me on top, still swinging.

Now there's a crowd. Great! Just what I needed – more drama. Oh, I have so got to tell Sam off right now. It's gonna happen. Just you wait.

I continued hitting him, screaming obscenities that would make a sailor blush in shame.

"How... dare... you!" I screamed through punches. Sam wasn't trying to hit me anymore – he knew he couldn't (as he was so drunk) – he was just holding his hands up to his face as best he could.

"What is your... problem?" he shouted back.

"My problem? _My_ problem? I think you've gotten some wires crossed up there! _You're _the one with the problem!" I snapped at him fiercely.

"Dude, I... d-don't know what... you're talking... about!" he stammered. Clearly he's in denial.

I helped him up regretfully. If I'm to have any honor in this battle – besides fighting for Casey – I have to tell him. That still doesn't mean I can't hit him. He brushed off his pants and shirt while I shooed away the spectators.

When I turned back to Sam, I saw how much damage I had already done. Trust me, it looked bad. He had a busted up lower lip, a huge cut from his temple to his jawbone (that one's gonna leave a scar), an already bruising eye, and a nosebleed. I almost laughed; I stuck my tongue in my cheek. Sam noticed this and he scowled as best he could. It was pitiful.

"Would you like to know what you did, _Sammy?_" Sam flinched; his mom used to call him Sammy. Now I feel bad. But not bad enough so I won't take out all of my anger issues on him.

"Dude, don't. Now, what is it that I'm supposed to have done here?" he asked, growing aggravated. Good – now he knows a tenth of what I'm feeling.

"Don't mess with me. You know good and well what you did. You really, _really_ don't want me to have to tell you," I said, doing the universal symbol for 'I'm gonna kick you butt'.

"No, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, _Der._ Why don't you refresh my memory? You seem to do everything else for me otherwise," he mumbled that last part under his breath. Ha, I bet he thought he was gonna be sneaky. Fat chance of that – Sam's about as quiet as an approaching helicopter.

I scowled, only being able to think of one thing: Casey.

"_I finally found Sam around after school let out. He seemed a little sad – I wanted to know why. I mean, c'mon, he's my boyfriend. I need to know what's wrong with him so I can be there for him. _

"_I came up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I asked him what was wrong and he told me we needed to talk. I should've known then that something was really wrong. _

"_He took my hand and led me to the parking lot. I could smell alcohol on him. It was disgusting. I should've left when I had the chance." She stopped for a second to collect herself before continuing. "He told me that he was going through a really rough time and that there was nothing I could do for. But you know me – I never know when to quit..." she trailed off here and looked away from me. "Anyway, I told him that I wanted to be there for him, no matter what, and he completely blew a gasket. He said I didn't know anything about him and I needed to _mind my own fucking business_. He called me a slut and said he never wanted to see me again. I'm crying by now and I could tell it's making it worse, but I couldn't stop. He got really ticked and I finally decided to walk away. But he grabbed me before I could._

"'You don't ever walk away from me,'_ he said. He had grabbed my arms so hard I felt them bruise. And then he hit me. Hard. _

"_Finally, some random person saw him and told him to back off. It distracted him long enough for me to get away. And now I'm here," she finished, still not looking at me, instead choosing to look at her wringing hands in her lap. _

"_Casey, don't worry about this. He won't _ever_ touch you again," I promised._

"Casey," I said with venom, and Sam's eyes shot open wide and his jaw dropped.

"She told you? She told _you_?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes," I said shortly. He'd better not push it.

"That _whore_," he said, "I'll make her pay..."

"First off, you don't _ever_ talk about Casey that way. Don't even _think_ about her, or I'll kill you – and I mean that. Second, you're not going to have the chance to do anything. Someone called 911 while I was busting your face – I heard them. The police will be here soon and I'll tell them what happened. You idiot. I hope you burn," I said and knocked his lights out.

A few minutes later the police arrived. They took Sam and me into custody and drove us to the station. They put us in a cell and called us out one at a time (by now Sam had woken up and thrown up quite a few times) to tell the story. I told them everything – from the abusive father part, Sam's mom, and school, Casey, the parking lot - every detail. They wrote it all down and let me have my phone call. I dialed Casey's cell – the one I had given her. It rang only once before she picked it up.

"Derek?" She asked quickly.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked.

"Uh, nothing. I just – nothing. Where are you?"

"Well, that's the thing. I need you to pick me up. I'm at the police station," I explained hastily. I only get two minutes.

"What? Why?"

"I'll tell you everything when you get here, okay? Just bring fifty bucks and I'll tell you every little detail, all right?" I said and hung up before she could protest.

The guard that was standing beside me took me back to the cell. The police were questioning Sam. I sat on the (_nasty_) bench that was sticking out of the wall. Remind me to never get in a fight and get caught again. I twiddled my thumbs incessantly, bored to the bone. I must've sighed over billion times by now. I daren't lie down – not if I want a strange, incurable disease. I mean, c'mon, it's a _jail cell_. Lots and _lots_ of nasty, disgusting, diseased people have been here with their nasty, disgusting, diseased bodily functions and fluids and – _ew make Casey hurry!_ What the _hell_ is _that?_! Gross.

Only when I heard her voice did I look up. She walked over to the cell and shook her head at me. Sam was still lying down on the other bench. The guard let me out and Casey and I went to the car.

We were almost home when I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Casey?" She looked over at me for a millisecond before turning her attention back to the road.

"Yeah?"

"Are you mad at me?" I asked quietly. Hey -- I'm not used to beating up someone for someone else and not getting a 'thanks' or a kiss. It's weird and I want to know why.

"Yes," she said quickly.

I turned in my seat to face her better, "Why?"

"You could've gotten hurt. And I couldn't bare it if you got hurt," she choked out, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"Hey, Case, it's okay. _I'm_ okay. Now, wipe that frown off your face and smile. I love to see you smile," I said, wiping her right cheek free of a lonely tear. She laughed a little when I said this; it made my day. I don't think she's smiled all day.

"Thanks, Derek," she said honestly and we went the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence.


	6. Come A Little Closer, My Darling

**A/N: **

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**Come A Little Closer, My Darling**

When we arrived at home, Casey turned the ignition and got out of the car silently. I followed her like a lost puppy. Well, not so much a _lost_ puppy, but like a lovesick puppy. We entered the house – everything was quiet.

"They must all be in bed," I said, pointing out the obvious. I felt like I had just shattered glass, because as soon as I said that Dad, Nora, and Marti – Dad was carrying her, she was rather sleepy, I imagine – Lizzie, and Edwin came bounding down the stairs. Dad and Nora immediately began to bombard me with questions; "Where were you?", "Why didn't you call?", "Casey, tell us what happened.", "Derek, you had better start talking. Now.", and finally, "We were so worried!" Lizzie spoke the last sentence - she and Edwin were the only calm ones.

"Stop! One at a time. Please? I have a headache and you all are making it worse," Casey said, only loud enough to get their attention. She put a hand to her forehead. Rather dramatically, too. But that's Casey for ya. Waving the other at the stairs, she muttered a "go on." Dad, startled by her, stumbled for words.

"Um, uh... Derek. You, uh... where exactly were you again?"

I rolled my eyes, "The police station."

Nora's eyes popped out of her head.

"What? What in God's name were doing at the _police_ station?" she shouted, forgetting Casey's plea for quiet.

"I got in a fight," I responded vaguely.

"_What happened?_ Boy, you had better start telling me what happened before I _make_ you," Dad started. I was about to reply with something along the lines of, 'but you're already making me', but Casey looked at me, knowing me more than I thought she did.

I sighed heavily, "I got in a fight with Sam." They all gave me a look that said 'go on or something bad is going to happen.' I looked at Casey for her permission to tell the whole story and she hesitantly nodded her head. "Sam beat Casey at school today. I returned the favor," I said, feeling my blood run hot at the thought of _him_.

Nora's already bugged out eyes widened even further. She instantly ran to Casey and started with the incessant string of questions once again.

"Stop!" I shouted. "She has a headache, she doesn't feel good, and she _certainly_ can't answer all of those questions at once. Nora, listen to me. Take. A. Deep. Breath. And. Leave. Her. Be," I said shortly. I had control over the situation. Both Dad and Nora starting yelling at me for being so disrespectful to Nora when Casey ran up the stairs. We heard her slam her door and we all flinched visibly.

"You see what you do?" I shouted and ran up after her. I knocked on her door quietly, "Case? Case it's me. Can I come in?" I heard her door unlock and I took that as my cue.

Casey was on the bed, lying on her stomach. Her face was in her pillow and she was shivering. I got that same blanket I had given her earlier and spread it out across her. She turned over on her side to face me. After a few moments of silence she spoke quietly.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Crap - how do I answer that? I can't frickin' tell her that I'm head-over-hills in love with her. She'll probably scream at me to get out. I couldn't handle that – my _heart_ couldn't handle that.

"I, um... I, uh... Ah, screw it. I love you, Casey," I said and walked closer to her bed. Casey looked shocked at my statement and didn't say anything.

"Okay, then. I'll just go... away," I said and approached the door. I stopped just short of the exit to say one last thing to her. "I know it sounds rash, but it's true. Believe me, it was as much a shock to me as it was to you." With that I walked out.

--

The next several days Casey avoided contact with me as much as possible. My heart was slowly chipping off in tiny, painful pieces everyday that she didn't speak to me. God, I'm turning into a total sap. How am I supposed to take this? Am I supposed to just sit here until she makes up her mind? What if she already has and this is it? What if she never speaks to me again? I've ruined it. I should never have told her. At least she talked to me before... well, fought with me. Now she doesn't even look at me.

"Derek? Can I talk to you?" Lizzie asked me later on that week. She came into my room and sat in my computer chair.

I leaned back on my bed and waved my hand in the air, "Yeah," I mumbled. I heard her sigh and begin to spin around in the chair.

"Casey's been acting funny lately... and you two aren't even fighting, let alone speaking to each other. I'm worried – what's wrong?" she inquired.

I sighed heavily, "I don't know. You're her sister, why don't _you_ talk to her?"

"I've tried – she just looks away and won't talk. I thought maybe you might be able to get her talk."

I stood up and paced around my room. "Lizzie, she won't even _look_ at me, all right? Do you really think that she's going to confess her deepest problems to _me_? The guy she's hated since day one? I don't think so!" I exploded. I could _hear_ Lizzie flinch. I sighed. "I'm sorry, okay. Now just isn't a good time. I need to be alone."

Lizzie nodded her head in understanding and left my room, closing my door behind her. I always knew I liked her. She so calm when it comes to understanding things. Casey makes everything all dramatic. But that's what drew me to her.

I heard a soft knock on my door a few minutes later and I shouted a "go away", but they knocked again.

"What do you want?" I asked, annoyed. I really needed some time to think and no one would leave me alone long enough to do so.

I saw Casey peek her head in, then her whole body. "Derek?"

"The one and only. Whatcha need?" I'm so good at being fake-nice. I should get an award. Seriously.

She didn't answer, she just walked over to the window in my room and looked out into space.

"You know, I really thought Sam was different. He had manners, he was sweet, and he was a good kisser, too. For once the phrase 'All men are pigs' was wrong. I thought he was the one. Well, actually, I didn't. I just really, really liked him. I was in love with him, Derek. Then he... did what he did and I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him," she said in monotone, still looking out the window.

"Casey, I –"

"Dad used to beat me. He would say that I wasn't good enough," she said slowly, not appearing to have heard me. "If I came home with a grade any lower than an A, he would slap me, kick me, hit me... He was always drunk, too. Mom would always try to make sure that Lizzie didn't say anything for fear that he might hit her and kill her. Lizzie was so small then... Everyday I would ask Mom when she was going to leave him. Everyday she said that he would stop and everything would get better.

"I remember that three Christmases ago – one year before Mom married George – Dad actually came home with presents. Lizzy and I ran to go and hug him and he hugged us back. I should've known then that something was up – he hadn't hugged me for almost three years. God, I was so stupid.

"The next morning – Christmas morning – Mom, Lizzie, and I came down the stairs... What we saw will stay with me forever. Dad was sitting in the chair beside the tree – gun in hand, blood coming out of his chest. He had Christmas music on so we wouldn't here it – he had a silencer - I guess he didn't want there to be any chance of waking us up.

"Mom covered Lizzie's eyes and took her upstairs without saying a word. I continued down the stairs and walked toward him. I sat in his lap and hugged him like there was no tomorrow," she stopped for a moment and I thought she was done. I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it.

"He wasn't always an abusing drunk. Up until I was ten years old he was what I would call the best dad in the world. Hugs and kisses everyday, bed-time stories, piggy-back rides... I guess I thought when he had come home that night before, that he was going to stop. That he was going to be Daddy again. When I was hugging him I was hugging Daddy. Not Richard McDonald – Daddy," she finished. She broke down then and looked at me.

"Oh, Derek! I miss him so much! I miss my daddy," she cried. I took her in my arms and held her until her sobbing subsided. I seemed to be holding a breaking-down Casey a lot lately. Not that I mind – the holding part, not the fact that Casey has something to cry about.

"Casey, it's okay. You're all right. I'm sure he knows that you miss him and you love him," wow, that is by far the worst comforting phrase ever. I mean, how sucky was that? I felt her nod her head into my chest then just begin to fall asleep on me.

"Whoa, don't fall asleep just yet. I need to know something. Why have you been avoiding me? Silent treatment is worse than you telling me you hate me. Wait, no, they're both about the same. But, seriously Casey, do you hate me?" She looked up at me, her beautiful blue orbs filled with borderline tears. Then she did something that I'll never forget – she kissed me. She kissed me with a burning passion – I could feel it. I brought my tongue to her lips, begging for entrance. She granted almost instantly and moaned.

"I love you, Derek."


	7. Mixed, Jumbled, You Name it, I've Got It

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews!

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**Mixed, Jumbled, You name it – I've got it**

"I love you, Derek," Casey moaned into my mouth. My eyes shot wide,

I gently pushed her off of me, "What?"

She looked into my eyes; hers were glazed over... with lust. I saw no love there; hurt, yes. Pains, betrayal, brokenheartedness, hate... Anything and everything but love – and that hurt.

"I love you," she nodded as if to assure me.

I couldn't look at her.

"No, Casey – you don't. You're hurting, you're vulnerable... I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. I love you too much to do that. Even though you say it, Casey, it doesn't mean you mean it. As much as it hurts me to say this – I have to. Get out. Get out and don't come back. I love you, Casey, but you could never love me back. Get out!" I finished, shouting. When she wouldn't move, I took her by the shoulders and guided her to the door.

She turned to look at me, "I'm sorry, Derek. I didn't mean to –" I cut her off by putting my hand up.

"Don't, Casey. See you later," I said solemnly and nodded my head as goodbye. I walked over to my window and looked outside; the sky was cloudy – the Weather Channel had been saying it going to snow. I don't really care if it does or not.

I crossed my arms and just stood there, eyes focused on the tree outside. When I heard my door close, I dropped my head into my hands and cried. I, Derek Venturi, cried.

It wasn't for very long, though. Soon dinner was done and I had to wipe my face dry of the tears, and put on my poker face. Walking down the hall, I looked quickly in the small mirror to the left; my eyes weren't too puffy. I quickly slapped my cheeks several times to get the color back in them and rubbed my nose. About a minute later I had my old 'cooler than thou' look back.

I briskly marched down the stairs and joined Dad, Lizzie, and Marti at the table. I looked at the place across from me – Casey's seat. A few beats later Nora entered with our supper – Chicken Parmesan with mashed potatoes.

I was just about to bite into one of the pieces of chicken when Nora suddenly blurted out, "Where's Casey?" I nearly stopped breathing. I merely shrugged casually, hoping no one had seen my slip up. "Well," she drew out, "could you go get her for me?"

I shook my head vigorously, "If she wants to eat, she'll come down here. She's probably just going on a diet." When I got strange looks from everyone else, I added, "peer pressure. You know how it is." They kept their strange looks, but seconds after, shrugged it off and continued to eat.

About a good half-hour later, I had finished my food. I thanked Nora and excused myself quietly.

Seriously, I'm worried about myself here. Where are all of the manners coming from? Mom had always tried to pound them into my brain but it had never worked.

_Mom . . ._

Man, I miss her.

Her name was Chrissy Leigh Stocks before she became a Venturi. I remember one time she made plans for just me and her to go on a camping trip to the Great Canadian Temperate Rain Forest. She'd said that she wanted us to bond some more – we hadn't been getting along too well lately. I had just turned eleven and I thought that hanging with the folks wasn't the coolest thing in the world.

I got so excited that I wanted to start packing immediately, but she said we were leaving in a week. That made me _real_ mad for a little while, but I got over it when she said we were staying for two weeks.

Sometime during the week's wait, Mom had gotten really bad headaches and nausea. Dad said that we should just wait and see, as I was panicking that we wouldn't be able to go on the trip. Also because Mom was sick. She would stay in her and Dad's bedroom all of the time, curtains drawn, lights out and everyone had to be real quiet. Even two-year-old Marti was as silent as she'd ever been. Edwin had always kept to himself when he was eight so we didn't need to tell him.

On the day Mom and I were to leave, she was still sick. Her skin was an ivory color in contrast with her usual sun-kissed complexion. Dad had been telling her to visit the doctor all week, but she hadn't listened.

To this day I wish she'd listened to my dad. Not that it would have made a difference.

I came into her room a week after we would have left on the trip to say 'goodnight.' She was lying on her bed, her head buried in her pillow. I remember calling her name softly, so as not to worsen her pain. When she didn't respond at all for a minute, I knew something terrible had happened.

I slowly walked over to the bed, not making a sound. Carefully, and gently, I climbed on the bed. Shaking her shoulder slightly, I called her name aloud – no answer. I did it again, only harder and louder. I still received no response. I shook her shoulders ruthlessly and called her name at the top of my lungs. By then I had rolled her over into my lap. 'Mom! Mom! Mom! Mommy!' I had called, over and over and over.

Dad had heard my screaming and he ran upstairs to scold me for being so loud with Mom as sick as she was. When he heard the calling from her room, he burst through the doorway, anger apparent on his face. 'Derek! Stop that foolish screaming this instant!' he'd said. When I kept on shaking and calling her, he furrowed his brow even further. Realizing something was wrong, he ran the rest of the way to the bed. He looked at Mom and told me to leave the room.

She'd died of a brain tumor.

When the doctors had done the autopsy, they'd concluded that it had been growing steadily for about two years.

To this day I wish it were different.

I wish she could hold my hand and kiss my cuts and bruises. I wish she could be at my hockey games. I wish she could see me picking my grades up, slowly but surely. I wish I could hear her voice again, the voice that flowed in such a way that it reminded me of honey. I wish she could see how smart Edwin is compared to how he used to be. I wish she could see Marti being... well, Marti. I wish Mom were here.

I was shook out of my thoughts when there was a knock on my door.

"Derek?"


	8. The Bet

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews!

* * *

**The Bet**

"Derek?" Sam questioned. I had forgotten to lock the door when everyone went out for ice cream. Crap.

I turned to face him, and I could hardly contain my anger. I still can't believe he did that to Casey. Wait a second - what's he even doing here? Of all the nerve...

"What the hell do you want?" I growled.

"I just came to - to talk, Derek," he mumbled out.

"Get out."

"What? Dude, I just came to talk about happened," he said quickly.

"Did I stutter? I said get out!" I shouted, face growing red. Sam flinched and nodded his head slowly. But he didn't leave.

"Yeah, man. I heard you. That doesn't mean I listened," he said. The smartass. Whoa, never thought I'd say that about _Sam. _I shook, faking a smile.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," I drawled out. "You just don't get it, do you?" I dropped the smile into a snarl. "Sam, you beat my stepsister. You _beat _her. So, until she's okay with that, you can't come near her. And seeing how just a few hours ago she told me she'd never forgive you, it doesn't look like there will be any exchanging of Christmas cards anytime soon, got it?"

With that, I kicked him out of the house. Just so you know, there was some grunting on Sam's part. His new best friend is going to be a butt donut.

As I climbed the stairs to go back to my room, I decided that I was officially bored out of my mind. There was no Edwin to boss around, no Marti to play with, no Casey to torture, nothing to do. Wow, this is _so_ much fun. Maybe I'll call Stephanie what's-her-face.

I can't believe it. She blew me off. Who cares if she has a boyfriend. Certainly not me.

I let out a deep sigh and resigned myself to the living room. Mindlessly flicking through the channels, I lulled myself to sleep.

0o

I woke up to the smell of waffles in the kitchen. I let the wafting odor carry me towards it to find everyone up and ready for school. Everyone except for Casey. Drowsily, I went and popped some Egos into the toaster. When they were ready, I plopped down in my seat.

I hadn't realized it, but all of them had been staring at me strangely. "What?" I asked, mouth full of crunchy waffles. They gave me strange looks.

"Hello, Derek," my dad said slowly. I cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged it off and continued eating. "Derek?" I sighed.

"Yes, Dad?"

"Do you even know what time it is?"

"It's six in the morning!" Marti chirped in. My eyes bugged out of my head. What the hell was I doing up at six in the morning? On a _Saturday._

"_What?!_" I exclaimed. "You know what, I'm just going to go back to bed."

"Ah, ah, ah, Derek. Since you're up with us all, why don't you just join us in our little trip to the museum." Nora said quickly in that you're-going-whether-or-not-you-like-it voice.

I groaned and marched upstairs to take a shower. Maybe if I take a long enough shower they'll forget about taking me. After getting dressed – as slowly as possible - I trudged down the stairs, drawling out every movement. Walking like I was returning from a fifteen mile hike without any rest, I traveled on into the kitchen. To my pleasant surprise, Casey was there, playing cards with Lizzie.

"...my Jack of Hearts to your 8, 9, and 10," she discarded a Nine of Spades, "Rummy." She smiled triumphantly. Lizzie groaned and threw her cards down, not even attempting to count her cards.

"You always win," she mumbled through the table. Casey merely raised her eyebrow and shrugged.

"Play again? I am on a _roll_," she bragged. Lizzie looked up and rolled her eyes, telling her to deal. I walked the rest of the way in and sat down beside Casey.

"Deal me in," I said.

Fifteen minutes into the game, I still had no plays on the table. Lizzie had one play, consisting of jack, queen, king, ace. Casey had about a hundred points. I was shooting daggers at her with my eyes. This sucks.

Thankfully, before Casey could kick my butt any longer, Dad shouted that it was time to leave. Lizzie, Casey, and I all dragged ourselves out of the kitchen and into the car. Edwin was in the back and when I told him to move, I took his seat. He rolled his eyes as he went to the middle row and sat beside Marti with Lizzie on the other side. Casey scoffed as she saw that she was sitting beside me. I rolled my eyes.

"I brought the cards. Want to play again? Ace is a high card, no triples - they _completely_ ruin the plays. Even though I still kicked your butt with it being the normal way," Casey said as she buckled up.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that. Rummy is a game of chance, basically. It says nothing about your skill - except that you can see and count," I said smugly.

"Fine."

She dealt the cards expertly and we looked at our hands. Suddenly, I came up with an idea.

"What do you say we bet on it. If I win, you do my homework and chores for a month," I said with a smirk.

"And if I win?" Casey asked.

"I'll do whatever you want for a week," I said after a beat. I'm sneaky. Figure out my plan yourself. It's pretty obvious. "Deal?" I stuck out my hand.

After some hesitance, Casey took my hand. "Deal."

"First to win two out of three?" she inquired.

"Whatever blows your skirt up." She cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked, smirking.

We began to play.


	9. Let's Ditch This Joint

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews!

* * *

**Let's Ditch This Joint**

Not two seconds after we started to play, Casey had a Four of Hearts to Eight of Hearts play. I groaned inwardly, feeling that Lady Luck had turned into a man and liked Casey.

"I'll go first, since you took it upon yourself to deal," I said, already turning bitter. I don't see me winning anytime soon.

Casey shrugged, "That _is_ the rule."

"Don't sound so disappointed," I said sarcastically. Drawing from the deck, I was hoping against hope that it would be helpful...

Thank God! I won that game by a landslide! Casey didn't even know what hit her. She looked so shocked. She had like, ten cards still in her hand. Ah, this is the life.

"Okay, so you won that game - big whoop-dee-do. There are still two games left, and I only lost by five points," Casey smirked.

Okay, I lied. You caught me. But she was still shocked.

"Hey, Dad?" I asked loudly - Marti was screaming that we should all sing road songs.

"Yeah?"

"Exactly how long is it to this _museum_?" I shuddered inwardly as I said the word. I _hated _museums. Those tour guides are so stuck on themselves. More than _me._

"About three hours, son," Dad said, looking at me through the rear-view mirror.

"_Three hours?!_" I exclaimed.

"Just deal with it. This is part of your punishment."

"So you're making everyone suffer?" Casey cried. I heard her mumble something about hating museums, too.

"Casey..." Nora sighed. Casey took the hint and turned her attention back to her cards. I looked at my dad's agitated face in the mirror and did the same.

Two hours later, my butt was numb and Casey and I were head to head. So far, she'd won one game and so had I. In this last game, no triples were allowed, and aces were both a high and low card. It was all I could do to keep from laying down any triples; they were my pride and joy.

We each had one card left, and our foreheads were creased with anticipation. It was my turn. I drew a card and... shit. There goes me with no homework. I can feel it in my bones: _Casey is going to win._

With a smug look, Casey picked up a card and smiled brightly.

She won.

Wah-hoo! My plan is working perfectly.

"So, when exactly does my 'you do whatever I want for a week' start?" Casey inquired.

"Right now," I said, only loud enough to where she could hear. Casey seemed to ponder this for a moment before she made a move to speak.

Sticking out her pedicured feet, she said, "Massage my feet." I gave her a look, showing my displeasure, and began to massage her.

"How long do I have to keep this up?" I groaned.

"Until I tell you to stop."

"You're _funny_."

When we finally got to the museum, Casey was asleep and my hands were cramping. When I stopped, Casey immediately awoke.

"I didn't say you could stop." She looked amazed at my 'stupidity.'

"No, but I don't think I'm going to get on the ground and rub your feet in-between steps." Casey raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and I pointed to the window.

"Oh," was all she said when she saw that we had stopped. I smirked and climbed over her to get out. Casey slipped on her sandals and followed en suit. I checked my watch: noon. If I had gone back to sleep when I had woken up (at SIX o' CLOCK! ) my eyes would just now be opening.

"Good afternoon! Are you here for the tour?" the guide chirped. Why are these people always so happy?

"Yes, we are," Nora said. What else would we be here for? It's an _art museum._ _It's not like the gift shop is worth anything; like time, for instance. Because time is money_. Haha, I crack myself up.

"What are you smiling for?" Casey asked. She knew I hated these things. I honestly had no reason to smile. Well, except for the fact that I was here with her.

"Oh, nothing," I said, and walked a little bit in front of her.

She caught up with me. "Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Walk with me?" I jumped for joy - inside my mind, of course.

"Sure."

She looped her arm through mine and we soldiered on.

Five minutes later I thought my face was going to fall apart I was yawning so much. I leaned down to my right to talk to Casey. "Hey, what do you say we ditch this shit and have some fun?"

Casey looked up at me for a moment, then looked at the oblivious people around us and nodded her head. I smirked and we stealthily snuck off through the doorway to our left.


	10. A Little Fun Never Hurt Right?

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews!

* * *

**A Little Fun Never Hurt... Right?**

"Derek?" Casey asked quietly. Sometime amongst all the wandering around we'd been doing, I had pulled her into a storage closet.

"Yes, milady?" I'd hoped she would just kiss me already.

"Why are we here?"

I smirked, "'Cause my dad brought us."

She shoved me playfully in the arm. "Why are _we_ in _here_?"

"I think you know why," I drawled out, my voice husky. Casey looked down at the ground. Through the darkness I could see her nod. I put two fingers under her chin, causing her to look at me.

"Derek, I-" she started.

"Shh..." I said slowly. There was a slight pause. My hand had not moved.

"Kiss me," Casey ordered. I nodded my head, bending down, and my lips met hers in a sweet kiss. My hands traveled down to her waist and she ran her fingers through my hair. I put my tongue to her lips, silently asking for entry. She almost instantly permitted, and my tongue began to massage hers, and she mine. She broke apart from me, causing a little sting on my lips.

"Derek," Casey spoke. "You told me not too long ago that you loved me. Is that true?"

I looked her square in the eyes, "Do you even have to ask?"

Casey gave a nervous laugh and looked everywhere but at me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was avoiding me.

"Casey?"

Then, utter silence. You could hear a spec of dust fall on the deserted shelves of the stuffy, secluded room. Next thing I know, she's bolted out the door and left me alone, in my sweet misery.

0o

After I'd regained enough of my dignity to walk out of the closet, I rejoined the others. Casey was walking alone in the group, and Dad and Nora seemed to have not even noticed our absence. Typical of them. If it hadn't been for me, they wouldn't even have noticed that Casey had been assaulted.

Oh, and while I'm on the subject, guess what Sam's 'punishment' was. Three hundred hours of community service and a mark on his not-so-spotless record. But his record is irrelevant. The fact of what his punishment was doesn't even compare to what he did irks me. Man, I want to punch some_one_ - no, not _thing_; although a wall might do - so bad. Casey doesn't need to know about this whole thing. She's gone through enough without having to hear about Sam's lack of punishment. I wish I could just make her forget about him.

"Derek! Watch where you're going!" Casey yelled. Amongst all of my thinking I had stepped on the back of her shoe; which wasn't really a shoe as she was wearing sandals, and I scraped her heel.

"Geez, lighten up, Klutzilla!" I exclaimed. Casey narrowed her eyes, a sign of war.

"_I'm _Klutzilla? I'm not the one going around stepping on peoples' feet!" she screamed at me.

A crowd had begun to gather, as well as security.

"At least I didn't fall and land on someone's butt," I said loudly. She let out a scream of frustration and shoved me against the wall. I fell, as did the 'precious work of art' above me. Ow.

I groaned and rose , cringing at the pain in my 'happy place' where the picture had landed. Let me just say: my 'happy place' was _not_ very happy anymore.

"God, Casey! What is your problem?" I exclaimed.

"My problem? _My_ problem?" she advanced towards me. I couldn't back up - she had me cornered. "You wanna know what my problem is?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact - _I do_," I said, crossing my arms defensively.

She got right in my face; I could feel her hot breath. "You."

My arms dropped, and I stalked off, shoving my way harshly through the crowd. I'm tired of this shit. If we can't communicate without fighting, then we won't communicate at all.

I entered the code into the car and climbed in the back. I fell into a restless, pissed off sleep, and I didn't wake up until Dad told me that we were home.


	11. Dream On

**A/N:** Final chapter! Woohoo! I really do appreciate all the great reviews, you guys! :) I'll post the sequel here in a bit. xD

* * *

**Dream On**

"Derek! Casey!" Dad yelled from downstairs. "Nora and I are taking the kids out to eat. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry." That, and a slam of the door, and Casey and I were home alone. We didn't get to go with them because we were grounded from what had happened at the museum.

I turned on my stereo and cranked up the volume. It was a Fuel song, one of their less-metalish-more-popish songs: Falls on Me. I never liked it before, but then I decided that it reminded me of Casey.

I began to sing along quietly. Okay, that's just _weird_. Trust me, if you'd ever heard me sing, you'd know why. I stopped singing, and, feeling restless, went down to the kitchen for something to eat.

All I found while rummaging through the fridge was: (shudder, cringe) _lasagna_. I made a disgusted face and started to make some mac and cheese.

"Ugh, don't tell me they told you to make _that_," Casey said as she trudged into the kitchen. I grunted in response, remembering my vow of 'non-communication.' She walked by me and I caught a flash of skin with my peripheral vision. In fact, that was _quite_ a lot of skin. It couldn't be, could it? I turned around and my did a very slow once-over: The Babe Raider outfit.

I swallowed, "Uh, Casey? Do you know what you're wearing?"

Casey looked at me, "Yes, I am well aware of what's on my body, Derek."

Yeah, more like what's _not_ on your body: clothes.

She smirked and bent over, looking in the fridge. I started to check out her butt – hey, she asked for it when she put on _that_ outfit.

"You know, Derek," she said, not turning to face me. "You _could_ be a little less obvious when you're staring at my ass." She turned and approached me seductively. "But I don't want you to." My mouth dropped as she latched her arm around my neck and pulled me closer to her. I bent down a little to kiss her when we heard a knock at the door. Casey's eyes narrowed, and she turned into 'normal' Casey again. Sweat pants and her hair pulled back. Only, something wasn't right... Well, besides the fact that Casey can change her clothing just by narrowing her eyes... Oh, my God. She has horns... and a _pitchfork?_ Casey's the devil! Ahh!

_But she's a sexy little devil_.

"Der-rek," she sang. Her voice was thick and rich, like maple syrup. "Der-rek," the silky smooth voice called again. I felt a pain in my stomach.

"Ow!" I shouted as I shot up, my eyes searching for the cause of my pain and waking from my dream.

_Marti?_

"Smerek!" she screamed happily at me. I held back the cringe and smiled at her. Yes, I - Derek Venturi - have the ability to smile - but only on some occasions. Like now, for instance.

"Hey, Smarti," I said. "What's up?"

Her smile grew unbelievably large, and I thought she resembled a less green version of 'The Grinch.'

"Will you play dress up with me?" she laced her fingers together and stuck out her lower lip. Every defense I had melted and I relented.

0o

Wow. _Now _I remember why I try to avoid this in every way possible. Marti had put me in a polka-dotted dress with a giant, orange ribbon around the waist. With a red bow wrapped around my head (under my chin and on my hair), I looked like a Christmas gift.

I stumbled down the steps in a pair of bright pink stiletto shoes that Marti had swiped from Casey as she presented me to the assembled MacDonald/Venturi clan.

"Presenting the one-and-only: Derika Katherine Venturly!" Marti drew out, using my 'new name.' I closed my purple eye-shadowed eyes and smiled with neon pink lips as my soon-to-be-dead little brother of mine took a picture.

"Wow, Derika, you're _so_ feminine. Maybe you'll be nominated for prom queen," Casey smirked at me. My smile dropped almost immediately and I threw a hate-filled look her way. As we were already on 'no speaking' terms, I was mad at her; but something about that sentence made me hate her.

"Yeah, I'll cast my vote," Dad put in. I, almost unnoticeably, scoffed, were it not for Marti asking what was wrong. I told her that nothing was wrong and picked her up, as a groom would his bride when crossing the threshold of their new home. I tickled her small stomach and she giggled happily.

"Smerek! You're supposed to spin around!" she shouted through her - very loud - giggles. Ah, the _routine_. We went over it seconds before she pranced down the stairs.

"Right! I can't believe I almost forgot!" I couldn't keep the not-so-subtle sarcasm from escaping out of my mouth. It went through one of Marti's ears and out the other. I gently put her down and put my arms out on either side of me. I spun around in circles and, seeing camera flashes, instantly decided that Edwin wouldn't see another sunrise. Say hello to the basement, little friend. Hehe... I'm a minor, they'd only send Dad and Nora to jail for child endangerment, not me...

Okay, I don't want to get a job; Edwin will just clean my room for the rest of his life.

I heard Marti whisper for me to do 'the pose.' A quiet groan escaped my lips as I remembered what she was talking about.

"Smerek! Hurry!" Marti likes to give very brief fashion shows.

I complied and struck 'the pose.'

0o

After Marti was done permanently scarring me for life, I went up the stairs to take a shower and get all of the crap off of me.

I steamed up the bathroom and climbed into the tub. When my body had adjusted to the scalding hot water I scrubbed my face clean of any and all traces of make-up.

Okay... _ow_. I can officially cross out 'cross-dresser' from my future careers list, because that is the _last_ time I _ever _put on make-up. That _hurt_. Shouldn't there be like a cream or something that helps get this stuff off? Honestly, I don't know how you women do it.

I finished cleaning up and reached for a non-existent towel. I groaned, realizing that I had captured the only clean towel and had hid it in my room, planning on using it for my next shower. I looked around the bathroom for my clothes, then remembered that I had come in here immediately after the dress-up game. I had no clothes - clean ones, at least. And the make up had gotten all over my 'dirty' clothing.

Sighing, I realized that I would have to make the mad dash to my room - across the hall and three doors away. Crap. Crap, crap, _crap!_

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm ashamed of my body or anything - in fact, I'm down-right hot. Not to sound vain or anything. I just don't want to scar my peeps.

Eh, whatever. I'll just get my bearings and go to my room. It's that simple.

I walked out of the bathroom, clothes in hand, and began to walk towards my room. Much to my discomfort, however, Casey had chosen that particular moment and time to have to use the bathroom.

Do I _really_ have to tell you what happened?

Fine. But I'm not telling you again, so _pay attention._

She ran straight into me. We both crashed to the ground, landing flat on our butts. _Big_ fun.

"God, Klutzilla! Watch where you're going!" I shouted.

"I'm beginning to think that maybe _you_ should be the one with that name," she snapped back. "First the museum, now he... here..." She finally noticed my lack of clothing. She turned a shade of crimson that I didn't even know existed.

I smirked, I could definitely use this to my advantage. "Somethin' wrong, Case?" If it were possible, her face turned even redder. She looked away and scrambled up awkwardly. I followed suit, only much calmer.

"Derek? W-why are y-you..." she gulped.

Note that I am still mad at her. I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea. This is for future reference, in case you forget.

" ...not clothed? Un-clad? Undressed? Indecent? Although I'd hardly call myself indecent," I finished for her. She nodded and shook her head. I always win, Casey. I _always_ win.

I continued walking back to my room, leaving a very flabbergasted Casey in the dust.

0o

An hour later I was on my computer typing up a story - _my _story. This story.

This story will have a happy ending. It will leave you with a smile that you will never able to wipe off of your face. At least, it'll leave _me_ with a smile like that. I'm going to make sure of it.

I clicked 'print' and leaned back in my chair, awaiting my masterpiece. Page after page popped out of the printer, my destiny written in stone. The pages began to lull me into a daze, my eyes slowly closing...

I was shaken out of my reverie by a harsh knock on my door. Startled, I jumped up and my chair fell backwards, causing a racket.

"Just a second!" I called, straightening my clothing and trying to fix my chair back into the upright position.

"Derek, open up right now! I want to talk to you!" Casey shouted.

"_I said_: Just a second!" I scrambled around my room, trying to find my breath re-freshener. C'mon, where is it? _Where is it?_ Aha! I gave a sigh of relief when I finally found it, and just barely managed to spray it before my door burst open.

Casey crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, taking in my appearance. I think she's making sure that I'm dressed. I immediately calmed, going back to my suave self.

"What do you want?" I spat.

"I want to know what's wrong with you. You've been acting strange ever since I helped you with that English project awhile back," she said, ready for a fight.

"Don't you know? I've already told you once," I said, trying to remain calm. "But _apparently_ it wasn't important enough for you to care!"

So much for calm.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

I threw my hands up in frustration, "God – you are so _stupid!_ For someone to be so smart, how can you not remember?"

How could she not remember? I remember everything she says... Well, most of it, anyway.

"Remember what? Derek, what are you _talking _about?" She genuinely sounded like she didn't know. I don't believe it. Her eyes went to my still-printing printer.

"What's this?" She picked up the first page. "'So Wrong, But So Right'? Derek, why are you writing a story about our English project?" She read the first page, then picked up the rest of the stack. "Derek... I don't understand..." She continued reading.

"Yeah, well, you don't seem to understand anything lately," I snapped.

She ignored me and went to sit down in my computer chair. "What are you doing?"

She held up her hand, shushing me without taking her eyes from the papers. I sighed and fell back on my bed, waiting for her to finish. Every now and then her face would turn from happy to sad, then angry, then start all over again.

When she looked like she was done reading, I sat up, awaiting her reaction. She put the papers back in order, straightened them, and placed them on the desk. She looked calm. Her face was the picture of serenity, but her eyes betrayed her. I cocked my head when she approached me.

She slapped me - hard. Even after her hand left my face I could still feel it there. She raised her hand again, but I caught it.

I pulled her close to me, her waist between my knees. Putting my free hand on the small of her back, I kissed her. Much like our first kiss, this one was passionate, filled with longing. I stood up and let go of her wrist, bringing my hand to cup her face. Our tongues were having a battle through our connection. I pulled away and looked into her eyes.

"Tell me you love me," I demanded.

"I'm the one who's supposed to give the orders," she replied.

I kissed her again. She opened her mouth to mine. "I hate you."

"_Finally_ we agree on something," I snapped back. I turned her around - without breaking the kiss so her back was to the bed. I pushed her down and straddled her hips.

Bending over, I nibbled on her earlobe. I heard her moan and continued my antics. "Tell me you love me."

"Uh-uh," she managed to let out before another moan escaped her lips.

I kissed along her jaw before going to her neck. _So soft..._

Sucking on her tender skin, I spoke again. "Tell me you love me."

She moved her neck to the side to allow me more access. A happy sigh emerged from her lips, but she didn't answer. Her surprisingly skillful hands danced around my body as I placed butterfly-kisses all over her beautiful face.

As I kissed the side of her mouth, I spoke my demand once more. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you," she moaned. I smiled against her mouth.

_Rummy._

**The End**


End file.
